


Can't Hurt Me If I Hurt Myself

by Desdemona



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-26
Updated: 2012-08-26
Packaged: 2017-11-12 22:25:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/496301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Desdemona/pseuds/Desdemona
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ideally should be considered a missing scene post Isaac learning of what he can do for sick pets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Can't Hurt Me If I Hurt Myself

 

 

With the feel of the dog's fur still a ghost-soft tingle on his palm, Isaac finds himself in the forest with Scott a few steps behind. He stares at the moon, wondering at how it can be so fat and pleased in the sky when down below, life stumbles on, bloody and bruised.

And dying.

“I did this too.” Scott's voice doesn't quite break the silence as much as it gently pushes through, tugging Isaac out of his thoughts.

“Stare at the moon?” Isaac keeps his eyes upward, even as the chilly night dries the tears on his face to an uncomfortable crinkle on his skin.

“Think about how unfair it is. How wrong.” A twig groaning announces Scott's movement a second before his warmth actually fills up the space on Isaac's left. From the very corner of his eye, Isaac catches Scott stuffing his hands in his jean pockets, almost mirroring Isaac's stance.

“I could feel how much agony he was in.” His hand aches down to the bones, to the tendons, the nerves. “To die like that. It's not even humane. He's a dog, what did he do to deserve that?”

Isaac finally turns and meets Scott's dark gaze. “Please.”  _Help me_ .

Scott seems to hear the unspoken plea because his shoulders hunch almost to his ears and his eyes go  panicked-wide. Isaac slaps a hand over his mouth, choking on a sudden, brittle laugh.

“Look at you, McCall. Terrified right now.” Isaac digs a knuckle under his eye, his own disbelief at himself, at Scott, at life, softening his mockery. “I'm asking you for help on how to cope and you're freezing up on me here.”

Scott finally loosens on a sheepish laugh, scratching at the back of his head. “Ah, man, I don't know how to really help. I mean. All I can tell you is that it still brings me down.” They sober up at that. “ I mean,  a couple of days ago, I was like, petting a cat for two hours. Just petting and petting, taking as much as I could away.”

“What was wrong?” Isaac crosses his arms and rubs his fingers across his still tingly palm. He doesn't think the feeling will ever totally go away.

“Her heart.” Scott hunches again but this time, it's as if he's closing in on himself. Remembered pain puts shadows in and around his eyes. “She'd had a heart attack and just...” He drops his head.

“She died.” Isaac folds his fingers into a fist.

“Yeah.” Scott's shoulders give an abortive flicker, like he's trying to push off the memory. “But I helped her, I think. My boss said she went pretty peacefully.”

“It's not fair.” Isaac's nails sharpen against his will, begin to dig into the flesh of his palm. The prickles hurt for a second before trying to regenerate. To heal. “The animals...people...nobody deserves that kind of pain.”

“You're right.” Scott tilts his head, eyebrows snapped down in a hard line as he concentrates. “So maybe...maybe what we are is the way the universe balances that. We can't stop it because that's nature. But we can make it easier.”

“Is it really any easier, though?” Isaac opens his palm and the scratches are long gone. He looks over at Scott and tries to fight the drowning sensation of lost hope. “Death is death, Scott.”

“Yeah, dude, the ending's the same.” Scott glances at Isaac's open, uninjured palm. “But the way there doesn't have to be.”

Isaac starts to close his hand again, reflexively, uncontrollably driven to do...something, anything, except there's a hand on his, grasping him firmly. He only realizes he's shaking when Scott's grip tightens.

He takes a deep breath, too sharply, and the night's air cuts through him. The chill is wretched and for a second, overwhelming. Isaac tries to move his hand, tries to form the fist if for no other reason than he has no idea what else to  _do_ but Scott doesn't let him budge.

Slowly, at a glacier's pace, Scott's steady warmth pushes the cold back.  Isaac has no idea how long they stand there, waiting on him but all Isaac knows is that when he's finally warm, Scott is still standing there, his gaze like a solid, comforting weight.

It's at that moment that realization blossoms. This is what it's like to have someone care about you. This is what it's like when someone wants you to be okay.

Isaac relaxes his fingers. Scott lets him go but stays nearby, leaving Isaac to wonder if Scott even notices what he's doing. He's not sure Derek would be able to do this, to understand. And he knows, with a sad certainty, that's it's something that Derek will never learn to do without Scott.

“You know, you could write some damn good fortune cookies.” His voice is rough like he's been crying. A passing wind tells him his face is wet again.

Scott cracks a small smile. “Stiles is better with words.”

“Yeah.” Isaac glances at the moon again. The light seems softer, like it turned down it's glare in respect. “Sometimes.”

 


End file.
